My eyes were too busy watching his lips for me to hear what was being said. His fingers waved at me, breaking my daze.
"Um...miss?" His words were unsure, but his voice was something that made my knees go weak.
"Oh. I'm sorry. What did you want hun?" Te usual endearment I used for hundreds of strangers seemed much too intimate with him.
A soft color filled his cheeks for a millisecond. "Just a shot of whiskey."
I nodded and turned to pull a bottle from the shelf, trying to take my time to rebuild my composure, but also trying to keep up with my usual pace. What was it about this stranger that made me forget how to do my job? I've had hunks galore come in and a few flirted with me, but none affected me a quarter as bad as this. Mentally, I sighed; physically, I straightened my shoulders and turned to hand him his shot. Like a pro, he threw it back without a wince. Unlike most men, he gently set the glass on a napkin he had laid out in front of him while my back was turned.
++++++++++
Laying in bed that night, all I could think of was the way his fingers curled around another bill as he handed me a tip before we left. The bill was crumpled and well-worn, but I didn't care, it'll still spend. But the way his fingers held the dollar, he seemed like he was holding the hand of a lover. No matter what I tried thinking of, my mind was always brought back to his fingers. Why I remembered his fingers, I don't know; usually I can only recall the eyes. But for whatever reason, I fell asleep haunted by his fingers.
My alarm clock buzzed after what seemed like a second of closing my eyes. I groaned and fumbled around for the off button, while burying my face under my pillow and covers. There is no way I'm gonna be awake right now. The alarm buzzed again, and it finally dawned on me that it was my phone that buzzed. I yawned and answered my phone.
"What?"
"Via, I'm scared." The voice on the other end was shaky and belonged I my younger half-brother, Victor.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock, 12:43 a.m. Mom must have just gotten home with her new boyfriend, Marc. My mother is a good woman, she just has terrible taste in men; and that runs in our family. She was married to my father for seven years, but then he walked out on us to marry his secretary (who was surprisingly male) when I was five. He wasn't a douche, he sent my mother child support, and he and his partner spent time with me on my birthdays and during holidays; compared to the rest, my father was a saint. The next seven men my mom dated were druggies, pimps, or just plain abusive.
Then she found Vic's dad, Caleb Twist, who was decent. I was a sophomore in high school when they ha Vic, and for a while we were a decent family. Caleb was big about putting on a front for strangers. We were always on out best behavior out in public, sometime we were allowed to have a play-date once a week if everything pleased Caleb. But he soon made it known that we were not a family, we were his slaves. It was only after Caleb tried to order me an mom to do something with his buddies while he filmed us that mom decided keeping a family like this wasn't worth it.
"What's going on Vic?"
"Mom and Marc are yelling about something. I think they're talking about the Dr's." He sounded choked up. I hated that he was put through things like this. He's only nine, but he doesn't need this kind of shit in his life. But I can't always save him, I moved a town away from them for college.
"Can you go to your room and turn on your music?" I had made him a playlist of all his favorite songs and some soothing instrumentals for times like this.
"No. Marc took it away because I left my math homework at school."
"Why'd you leave your homework at school bud?"
"Because I finished it in class and my teacher said I could turn it in early." For a nine year old, he was extremely smart and would finish his work in record time.
"Did you tell Marc?"
"Yeah. He said I was lying."
Marc hated thinking anyone was smarter than him. My lips twisted into a scowl as I thought of him.
"Via...." Vic murmured after my silence. "Can I spend the night with you?"
It would take me three hours, round trip. I sighed and swing my feet out of the bed and set then on the rug. "Alright bud. I'm out of the bed. I'll see you in an hour and a half."
